Retrograde
by shelikesvegitation
Summary: I'm falling apart. I'm barely breathing. In your name, I find meaning. So I'm holding on, I'm barely holding on to you - Lifehouse. Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle. Sara was in a traumatic car accident from which she sustained serious brain damage. Unable to remember anything from the last 9 years, she struggles to piece her life and marriage back together. Takes place 2012/2013 s.13 .
1. Chapter 1

All of a sudden, she was awake. She could now hear the taps and squeaks of rubber soles on linoleum floors and soft, gentle voices chattering in the hallways, getting louder and then quieter as they passed. She could hear soft, continuous beeping and the clicking of fingers on computer keys. Suddenly, she could feel the weight of her body on the firm, plastic mattress. She could feel the rubbery texture of the tube in her nostrils and on her upper lip. She could hear the rustling from the paper covering her pillow and could feel the knitted weave of the blanket wrapped around her legs. There was a certain familiarity to these senses. She had awoken to them many times as a child. She knew where she was. She was, as any right minded person in her situation should be, confused, however she was far too tired to care.

"Sara?" The sound of this strangers voice boomed inside her mind like a bell. "Sara. Can you hear me?"

She opened her eyes and suddenly light filled her body, exerting more pressure on her already aching brain. She squinted her eyes. It took a few moments for her to make out the shadows and be able to focus her eyes. When she did, she was met with the face of a young, beautiful nurse.

"Welcome back." The nurse said in a soft voice, almost a whisper. "You had us scared there for a second."

"What happened?" Sara croaked through a dry, burning throat.

"Just rest." The nurse responded with a warm smile. "Your doctor is on her way and she will explain everything but for now you need to relax."

Sara looked around the room. The T.V. in the corner of the ceiling was obviously showing the news but she couldn't focus her eyes enough to make out any of the words or people. She noticed flowers on the table beside the bed. "I'm at Desert Palm?" She asked. The question left behind a stinging burn in her throat.

"Mmhmm." The nurse nodded, flipping through notes on her clipboard. She was standing beside the bed where Sara was resting, trying to remember to breathe.

Sara sunk back into her bed and a slightly older, maybe late-30s, but equally beautiful woman came into the room. The nurse nodded her head and said an acknowledging '_Doctor'. _The Doctor looked over at Sara and smiled.

"Hi, Sara. I'm Dr. Edwards. It's nice to meet you."

"Can you tell me why I'm here?" Sara said, starting to feel desperate.

The doctor pulled a chair from the corner of the room to Sara's bedside. She sat down and looked at Sara apologetically. "I have a few questions for you first if that's ok."

Sara let out a slow, exhausted breath, and reluctantly nodded. She closed her eyes to block out the piercing light.

"Can you tell me your full name?" Dr. Edwards asked.

"Sara Joanna Sidle." Her throat felt as if it was made of gravel.

"How old are you?"

"35."

There was a long pause. Sara heard Dr. Edwards flipping back and forth through sheets of paper. "Sara," It was the doctors voice again, slow and concerned. "What year is it?"

"2003."

She heard a deep exhale. She heard files being stacked together and then she heard Dr. Edwards rising out of her chair. Sara opened her eyes.

"I'm going to let you rest now. Press the button if you need anything." Dr. Edwards said before she gracefully exited the room, gesturing the nurse to follow her.

By the time the two women had closed the door behind them, Sara was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"What?" Nick screamed. Dr. Edwards quickly gestured him to be quiet. "She thinks it's 2003?" He now spoke in a forceful whisper.

"Is she going to be okay? Will she recover?" Greg asked, horrified.

"I can't say anything definitive yet. Not until we run more tests." She responded.

"Does she remember anything from the accident?" Nick asked.

"She doesn't seem to have any knowledge as to why she's here."

"Well, did you tell her? She must be freaking out." Greg asked

"The antibiotics have made her very transient. I'd imagine she's going to be in and out for a couple more days. Currently we have very little knowledge of the patient's mental state, and I don't feel safe giving her a lot to process so soon." She then turned to face Nick. "Mr. Stokes, I ask you again to please return back to bed. We haven't finished examining you."

"My name is Nicholas Jeffery Stokes. It's 2012. The President of the United States is Barack Obama and I'm fine, thank you."

"You were in a traumatic accident. If you want to take care of yourself - "

Nick raised his voice. "I don't care about myself. I care about her." He then corrected himself and lowered his voice. "Besides the car impacted the passengers side. It didn't even hit me."

"Suit yourself." Said Dr. Edwards, reluctantly.

"Is there anything we can do to help her?" Greg asked.

"Actually there is something. To determine the cause of the memory loss, I'm going to need her detailed medical history. We don't know how much she remembers and her account isn't reliable enough so it's in her best interest to have a family member present to - "

"Wait, wait." Nick interrupted. "The cause of the memory loss? Isn't it just amnesia? We see it all the time in victims of car accidents."

"You're right. It's most likely retrograde amnesia but we can't begin treatment for it without ruling out all other possibilities. Brain tumor, Alzheimer's, dementia." She looked down at her clipboard. "It says here that her next of kin is a Dr. Gilbert Grissom. Is he here?"

"No." Nick shook his head. "We didn't want to call him until we talked to you. Look, it's gonna take a while to get him down here."

"I'm confused." Dr. Edwards said. "Isn't he her - "

"Husband," Greg interrupted. "Yeah, but they don't live together. He lives abroad," He turned to Nick. "Peru, right?"

"Dude, I don't know. She never tells me anything."

"Well," Dr. Edwards interjected. "Get him down here. Please. I want to commence treatment as soon as possible."

She walked away, leaving the men standing in the hospital hallway with their hands at their sides.

Greg looked at the ground. "You want to call him?"

"No." Nick shook his head and patted Greg on the shoulder. "You go ahead. Besides I was in a _traumatic accident. _"

Greg took a deep breath and pulled his phone out of his pocket.


	3. Chapter 3

Lima, Peru. Wednesday. September 23, 2012. 2:36 AM. Grissom was peacefully asleep in the tent that he had now called home for 2 years. He had spent the day surveying and documenting the growth patterns of the eriopis canrash – a beetle indigenous to Peru. His results turned up nothing new or incredibly interesting. It seemed that each day his work was becoming less and less fulfilling. The day had been just one of many disappointing days that he had been enduring these past few weeks and it was about to get worse. His slumber was interrupted by an obnoxiously loud ring coming from his phone. He looked at the caller ID: _SANDERS. _He propped himself up on one elbow, turned on his reading light and flipped open the phone.

"Grissom."

"Hey it's Greg." Said Greg, noticeably uncomfortable.

"Hey Greg." Grissom responded. "What is it?"

"Griss, uh. I don't really – I don't - " He struggled to find his words. "Sara was in an accident."

Grissom stopped breathing. "What happened? Is she alright?"

"She was in a car crash. She's stabilized but pretty beat up. She has a dislocated shoulder, a couple of slipped disks and fractured ribs, a few pinched nerves, a sprained ankle, torn rotator cuff and a few broken toes. I know there's more but those are the ones I can remember."

"Oh god." Grissom moaned.

"Yeah, and there was also, uh - " He began slowly. He really did not want to do this. "There was some brain damage as well. She's lost some memory."

"How much?" Grissom quickly asked.

"The doctors aren't totally sure," Tears were starting to well up in his eyes and he didn't know why. "It's looking like about 9 years."

There was silence on the other end. Grissom was in total shock. Sara and him hadn't begun dating until 6 years ago. They had only been married for 3. She doesn't remember their wedding, their honeymoon, their first –

"Grissom?" Greg interrupted his thoughts. "The doctors need to see you. You need to answer some questions about Sara's medical history. How fast can you be here?"

"It's a 10 hour flight, Greg. I can see when the next plane out of here is but at the very least I'm 15 hours away."

"I'll let Sara's doctor know. Call me when you figure out your flight."

His head was still spinning. "I will." He was already up and packing. "Will you tell her…"

"Yeah?" Greg asked after a moment of silence.

The only thing he wanted to say would confuse her. "Never mind. I'll keep you posted."

The line cut off.


	4. Chapter 4

Sara woke again. Gently this time. She was so disoriented. The room was spinning and still incredibly blurry. She closed her eyes and let out a groan.

"Sara." The nurse greeted her. "How are you feeling?"

"It's too bright." Sara said, her voice still crackly.

"We've blocked out as much light as possible, unfortunately. But here," Sara opened her eyes to see what she was holding out. "These will help."

Sara let out a long breath as she put the sunglasses on. Her head stopped hurting but she was still struggling to focus her eyes.

"The doctor is on her way down. She will be here any second." She grabbed a glass of water from the table and handed it to Sara. "Drink this slowly. It will help with the throat."

The next moment, Dr. Edwards walked in. "Hi Sara. You're looking great! How are you feeling?"

"I'd be feeling better if I knew what was going on." Sara said.

The doctor grinned and nodded before dismissing the nurse. After the nurse had gone, Dr. Edwards sat in the same chair as she did the time before.

"Do you remember what we talked about when I visited you last?"

Sara cleared her throat. "You asked me for my name, my age and asked me what year it was."

"And what were your answers to those questions?"

Sara rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "Sara Joanna Sidle. 35. 2003."

"Could you tell me the last thing you remember? Before you woke up in the hospital?"

Sara shifted her eyes from left to right. "I was at work. Getting my stuff from my locker – I was heading home."

"Could you tell me some of the things that happened that day?"

"I have to call them. Work, I mean. They need to know I'm okay. I need to call my boss."

"Okay, Sara. Okay. Everyone knows you're here. I want you to focus on what you remember. What was the date?"

"Um, July 5?"

"2003?"

"Yes." Sara said, a little louder. "What the hell is going on?"

"Sara, you were in an accident."

Sara looked down at her body for the first time, she had been so out of it that she never bothered to check. She now noticed the large cast around her right leg and the smaller ones around almost all of her toes. She tried to bring up both her hands to her face but couldn't lift her right arm. She touched her face with her left hand and felt the rough, broken texture of her skin which was, judging by the swelling and the pain, most likely covered in bruises as well as cuts. Her breaths shortened and as she moved her hand down her body, feeling more pain. "Sara," The doctor coaxed her. "Sara, I want you to breathe. Deep breaths." She grabbed Sara's hand and held it as Sara struggled to restore her breathing. She closed her eyes and forced a long, loud inhale, held it for a few moments, and then let it out slowly. Her extensive experience with waking up in hospital beds had taught her a thing or two about keeping her head in high-stress situations.

Sara looked up at the doctor. "What happened to me?"

"I know this is confusing but I promise you, it will all make sense," Sara looked at her with a combination of desperation and devastation, realizing that she wasn't going to get any answers. "The important thing is that you have been remarkably strong so far and we are confident that you are going to make a swift, total recovery. But we need you to stay patient and calm."

Sara couldn't believe this was happening. She searched her brain for answers. The last thing she remembered was being at work. She was finishing up for the week, and getting ready for her weekend with Hank. Would he be worried about her? Does he know what happened? She was so tired and wanted to go to sleep but her mind was too busy trying to make sense of it all.

"I want to talk to someone. Is anyone here? My boyfriend, a coworker, anyone. I just want to – I need to talk to someone I know."

The doctor stared at Sara for a while. "Ok," She finally said. "I'll see what I can do about that."


	5. Chapter 5

Nick sat waiting with his elbows resting on his knees, staring dead ahead trying to keep his eyes open. Greg had gone home to shower and change his clothes. He checked his watch. _11:07 AM. _Grissom had texted Greg to say that he was boarding his flight at 5:00 AM Peru-time. Peru was two hours ahead of Vegas and the flight was 10 hours long. That meant that Grissom would be landing, assuming all went well with his flight, in a couple of hours. His mental math was disrupted by the sound of heeled boots on the hospital floor. He looked up and saw Dr. Edwards approaching him from down the hallway. He stood up.

"How did the MRI go?" He asked anxiously.

"Very well – We've ruled out a brain tumor."

"I could have told you that."

"Well it wouldn't have held much weight. The only person who can give us a valid statement regarding Sara's health is Gil Grissom." She spoke articulately and smoothly. "And because there is no medical procedure that we can conduct to eliminate the possibility of Alzheimer's or dementia, we need him here to attest that she hasn't been experiencing a cognitive decline."

"We're working on it." Nick said. He sat back down in his seat and yawned. He had been in the hospital for about 12 hours.

"You need some rest." Dr. Edwards said.

"I'm fine." Nick said coldly. Dr. Edwards let out a sigh and sat down on the seat next to him.

"You know, you're technically my patient too." She spoke softly and compassionately. "It wouldn't kill you to stop being such a pain in the ass." Nick laughed and Dr. Edwards laughed as well. She had a beautiful smile, with rows of perfectly lined, snow-white teeth in between her naturally red lips.

"So," Nick cleared his throat, realizing how inappropriate it was to flirt with Sara's doctor while she was where she was. "Other than ruling out a brain tumor… Did you learn anything else?"

"As a matter of fact we did." Dr. Edwards said, her smile now gone. "The MRI showed during the collision, Sara suffered cranial trauma that resulted in damage to, primarily, her temporal lobe and prefrontal cortex."

"Well," Nick breathed. "That's characteristic of retrograde amnesia."

"It certainly fits," The doctor nodded. "But procedure is really weighing us down. Hospital protocol dictates that we have to be certain in our diagnosis before we move onto any kind of treatment."

"Grissom's moving as fast as he can, believe me." The doctor nodded.

"Sara said she wanted to speak to her boyfriend. Is she talking about Dr. Grissom?"

"Shit." Nick said. "In 2003 she would have been dating Hank. I forgot about that son of a - Creep ended up cheating on her."

"So, she has no memory of her husband whatsoever?" Dr. Edwards asked.

"No, she's known Grissom for like 15 years they just didn't get together until 6 years ago." They sat in silence for a few moments. "So what's next? For her."

"Well typically, I would administer an electroencephalogram - a brain wave test – but it probably wouldn't turn up much that we don't already know. Plus, I'd rather not put her through another examination." Nick nodded, grateful to see the doctor showing such compassion.

"Is she gonna be okay?" He asked.

The doctor let out a sigh. "In my opinion? Absolutely. Recovery from RA is often gradual and certain pieces of memory, most likely those nearest in time to the accident, may never be recovered. She's going to go through a period of dense amnesia before she starts to improve. But she will improve." She placed a hand on Nick's shoulder. "Just, consider getting some rest. Like I said, it's going to be a while before we start to see anything change. You're not going to miss much." She walked away gracefully. Nick admired her backside until he realized that he shouldn't.

"9 years." He whispered to himself in amazement. He sat back in the seat and brought his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose and squeezed it. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be consumed in guilt. He was the driver, it was his fault. Tears began to well up in his eyes and before he knew it, they were falling down uncontrollably.


	6. Chapter 6

The air in the waiting room was tense. Palpably so. Russell was pacing back and forth, one hand holding a cup of cold, un-sipped coffee, the other mindlessly fidgeting with that little rubber ball he usually kept in his office. Morgan was sitting down on the couch shaking her leg and looking at the clock every 5 seconds. Finn remained still, frozen almost, until her eyes were drawn to the T.V. in the corner of the room.

"Vultures." She said and let out a frustrated laugh. Russell and Morgan turned to her. She pointed to the screen, which was showing coverage of the accident.

"Hey! Turn that up, would you?" Russell asked Morgan who was sitting closest to the remote.

… _looking down at what remains from the brutal accident that occurred just a few hours ago along the I-215. The collision occurred when the westbound Jeep Wrangler, driver unknown, impacted the drivers side of the GMC Denali which was traveling eastbound. We have been notified that the Denali belongs to the Las Vegas police department and the two injured passengers are, in fact, civil servants. The identities of the officers will not be released until a later date but we have it under good authority that the driver of the vehicle sustained minimal injury, while the passenger is in critical condition. This is Paula Francis reporting for_ 8 news now.

"Who leaked it?" Morgan asked, now out of her chair.

"I don't know. I don't know, but listen," Russell said, reaching for the remote in Morgan's hand. "the media isn't our concern. Don't give it another thought." He pointed the remote at the T.V. and changed the channel. Just then, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and put it to his ear. "This is Russell… Okay… Conrad, I'm sure you can understand that… Fine… No. I understand, sir." He hung up the phone and turned to Finn and Morgan. "We're not the only ones who saw the news. The story's hot, the undersheriff wants us to start processing the scene. Right now. He wants answers."

"You want both of us out there?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah." Russell said, visibly frustrated with the circumstances.

They grabbed their coats and exited the waiting area, brushing shoulders with Nick on the way out. "You guys leaving?" He asked.

"Yeah." Morgan said unenthusiastically.

"Keep in touch." Finn said before the two exited the room, leaving Russell and Nick standing alone in the waiting area.

"Is he on his way?" Russell asked.

"Any minute now." Nick walked to the couch and let out a long exhale as he sat down. He put his head in his hands.

"I've never met him." Russell said. Nick looked up. "Grissom, I mean."

"I haven't seen him in," He thought a moment. "4 years. Not since he left CSI. He's called a few times."

Their conversation were interrupted by the two men entering the waiting room. Greg, and a man with short, gray, curly hair and a goatee. The man was wearing jeans and a brown, loose button up shirt. He was slightly large around the stomach and quite tall. Nick was the first to move, he approached Grissom with an extended arm, which Grissom would have used to pull in for a hug if it weren't for the circumstances.

"Good to see you, Nicky." Grissom said, shaking his hand.

"You too." Nick said, chocking up only slightly.

"You must be Russell. Gil Grissom." He introduced himself. He was visibly tired and shook up. He had bags of deep gray under his eyes and his eyes themselves seemed to have been drained of absolutely all life.

"Great to meet you. I've heard so much." The two men shook hands.

"Where is she?" Grissom asked.

"I'll take you." Nick offered.


	7. Chapter 7

"How is she?" Grissom asked Dr. Edwards. Nick had excused himself to get some coffee so that Grissom and Dr. Edwards could speak in private. They were sitting on a bench a few feet from Sara's room. They had spent about an hour going over Sara's medical history, Dr. Edwards asking question after question. She was finally done and now it was time for Grissom to ask some questions.

"She's confused." Dr. Edwards honestly responded. "She doesn't know why she's here, why she can't see anyone, why she can't read the paper or watch the news."

"What about pain?" He asked.

"We have her on narcotic painkillers. She's not experiencing any physical discomfort."

"How specific can you get about the extent of the memory loss?"

"She told me that the last day she remembers is June 5th, 2003. Now, there is no way that we can confirm this because there isn't any sort of procedure that we can do to calculate the exact amount of memory that's been lost."

"But you have done an MRI." Grissom half-asked, double checking the information that Nick had given him earlier.

"Yes, this morning."

"And?"

"It showed that during the collision, Sara hit her head and impacted her prefrontal cortex and temporal lobe."

"Retrograde amnesia." He said

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"You've helped us rule out the alternatives. You're familiar with RA?"

Grissom shrugged. "Worked a couple cases. From what I remember, most amnesiacs who suffer a traumatic injury recover."

"Yes. Slowly but progressively. Her older memories will be the first to come back. I cant speak to the time it will take, it's different for every patient."

"Does she know what's happened? Have you told her?"

"I wanted to wait until we conducted the MRI before we did anything drastic. I was concerned that she wasn't stable enough to take in that much information. But, after the MRI, Sara crashed out, hasn't woken up since – side effect of the medication we have her on." Grissom nodded. "As soon as she wakes up, I plan to tell her what happened in the accident and the real date."

"How do you think she'll take it?"

"Your guess is better than mine. It really comes down to what kind of person Sara is."

"And then what?"

"And then we start reintroducing her to the world. We'll start with people: her friends, her coworkers, her family, you. Then we take her out."

"Out?" He asked, shocked at how simple she made it seem. "She thinks it's 2003. Think about how much the world has changed."

"Which is why we aren't going to do anything of that magnitude until we get her comfortable with you and her other loved ones." Grissom felt a pang of sadness at the words _get her comfortable with you._ He thought about the way she must think of him. As her boss, nothing more. "And I should mention Dr. Grissom, it appears your wife thinks she is in a relationship with a former boyfriend. Hank." Grissom closed his eyes and sighed. He was only just able to stifle the tears welling up in his eyes. "I'm sorry." She said.

"Doctor?" A voice appeared. Dr. Edwards tore her eyes off of Grissom and now focused on the nurse who had emerged from Sara's room and was now making her way towards where they were sitting. "Sorry to interrupt," She looked at Grissom apologetically and then turned back to the Doctor. "She's awake."

The two doctors rose from the bench. "Dr. Grissom, this is Donna, your wife's nurse." Dr. Edwards said.

"Nice to meet you, Donna." He gave her a nod.

"You as well."

Dr. Edwards turned back to Grissom. "I don't know how long this will take but as soon as I'm finished, you're the first person I'll talk to." Grissom nodded in appreciation. He watched the two walk away and disappear into Sara's room. Once the door was closed, Grissom walked towards it. He stood in front of the closed door, imagining Sara on the other side. Terrified, confused, hurt. He imagined her with her face covered in scrapes, her body in casts, tears streaming down her face, screaming. He wanted so much to go in, to take her into his arms and it killed him knowing that he couldn't. He rested his forehead on the door and let the tears fall.


	8. Chapter 8

Chaos.

Screaming. Crying. Spitting. Biting.

Dr. Edwards had been through it a hundred times before – nothing surprised her. Sara responded the way anyone would in her situation.

Shrieking. Jerking. Pulling. Ripping.

She backed away from Sara as a horde of nurses pinned her down, administered the needle, and pushed on her until she calmed down.

Breathing. Whimpering. Shaking.

Once Sara had been stabilized, the nurses dispersed and all that was left was Dr. Edwards, Sara, and the silence between them. Sara lay on her bed moving her eyes in all directions, her chest raising and sinking at a rapid yet diluted pace. The doctor looked on at her with sympathetic eyes. _There's something different about his one_, she thought.

They said nothing. Dr. Edwards always waited for the patient to recover before speaking in order to avoid another episode. She stood silently, patiently.

Sara couldn't even begin to make sense of what she had just hear. The year _2012 _was booming in her mind. _2012, 2012, 2012, 2012… _Just when the noises where getting too much to bear, she heaved over the side of the bed.

After committing, she raised her face, still leaning over the side of the bed. Her eyes were red with tears as she pushed her dirty hair away from greasy face, and turned her head to look at Dr. Edwards, who was walking to her with a bucket from the bathroom.

"2012." She repeated, and vomited again. Dr. Edwards held her hair as Sara cried and retched.

"_Shhh…"_ Dr. Edwards soothed, her own eyes watering up as well.


	9. Chapter 9

Sara sat in her room, which was no longer spinning thanks to the benzodiazepine drip the hospital had her on. She didn't even know where to begin. It seemed silly asking someone else to fill in the blanks of her own life, but what choice did she have?

"Wha-" She shook her head. "Um. Whe-" She took a deep breath in order to get her words out. "What happened?" She finally whispered.

Dr. Edwards took a deep breath. She couldn't put it off any longer. She pulled up her chair towards its place by Sara's bedside, put her hands in her lap, and leaned in towards Sara's bed.

"Yesterday, September 23rd, at around 1:30 am, you were in a car accident. You sustained several bodily injuries – a ruptured disk, a couple pinched nerves, twisted ankle, a torn rotator cuff, 3 broken toes, a fractured finger, and a torn ACL."

Sara exhaled as if someone had punched her in the gut. "That all?"

"Well, and a traumatic brain injury resulting in retrograde amnesia." Dr. Edwards sympathetically added.

"Was anyone else hurt?"

"Not seriously, no."

"Was I with anyone? Was I driving?"

"You were with your co-worker Nick Stokes, he was driving."

"Nick? Is he okay?" She grew concerned, attempting to push herself up with her hands. Dr. Edwards placed her hand on Sara's shoulder and gently pushed her back down.

"He's fine. Resisting treatment, but fine." She smirked and chuckled lightly. "He's worried about you."

"Is he here?" She began to panic slightly. "Oh my god." Her breathing quickened and Dr. Edwards quickly took Sara's hand and tried to comfort her.

"Sara. Sara, calm down. Everything is fine. You're fine. Nick is fine. Relax." She coaxed. Once Sara's breathing deepened, she sat back in her chair.

"What he must look like now…" Sara said to herself, looking up at the ceiling.

"I could show you a picture." Dr. Edwards offer. Sara's eyes shot in her direction and the doctor raised her hands to appease her. "Only if you want. There's absolutely no rush."

"No. No, I – I'd like to see him." She corrected: "A picture of him, I mean."

Dr. Edwards leaned back into her chair, and looked contemplatively at her patient as she considered something she never thought she would.

"You know, Sara." She cleared her throat. "This is going to seem a little rash but I encourage you to consider." Sara looked at her apprehensively. "Nick will not leave the hospital. He hasn't slept, rested, or consumed anything other than coffee in over 24 hours and no one is able to make him."

Sara smiled, that sure sounded like Nick. It was good to know something's didn't change with time. Dr. Edwards was speaking slowly and, almost, cautiously. The doctor continued, "I think it might be beneficial for both of you if he came in here. Not until your ready, of course, but, as one of your best friends, he is much more capable of answering your questions than I am."

"Yes." Sara answered quickly and confidently, much to the doctor's surprise. "I like that idea."


End file.
